Interview with a Werewolf
by JolieFille
Summary: A short one-shot story about an interview between a one Remus Lupin, and his former student.


_Author's Note: This is useless, meaningless, insignificant little one-shot that I wrote __with no other purpose but to brush up on my writing, and especially brush up on Lupin. A little Lupin exercise gone wild, if you will. See, I just wanted to insert myself into a story and be all pervy with him. It was fun to write. Make what you'd like of it. :P_

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Interview with a Werewolf

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_Remus Lupin: Sexy H__ogwarts professor, dangerous werewolf, friend to all. _

No, no, no. That won't work. McGonagall will have an aneurysm and then proceed to give me a detention for referring to one of her former colleagues as sexy. As a dangerous werewolf. In an essay.

This assignment is ridiculous.

It is 8:45 pm on a Saturday night, and as I sit here in the Gryffindor common room, trying my best to tune out the sound of Harry Potter whining to his friends about the upcoming second task in the Triwizard Tournament, I can't help but wonder who or what my classmates will be writing about for their essays.

See, I'm in Transfiguration with McGonagall, and as part of our unit on human transfigurations, we're required to write a research paper on some aspect of it of our choice. I thought it would be interesting to write about lycanthropy, a disease that results in involuntary human transfiguration, and its social ramifications. Now, when I presented my research proposal to McGonagall, she thought the idea was absolutely brilliant, and immediately began listing off all the specific issues of Transfiguration Today I should check out. What a bloody load of help it was. Every single article I've read talks about the social ramifications for society, for others, for non-werewolves. I want to know about the social ramifications for werewolves! That's the important thing. How the hell did all these bloody transfiguration scholars miss that point? Honestly.

Anyway. I want to incorporate real life people to this essay. McGongall assigned this project to us a couple of months ago, back in November. So you know what I did? Over winter vacation, I got in touch with my old professor, Remus Lupin for an interview. I think a deep, fan-girl sigh is in order.

Sigh.

He was a professor here at Hogwarts last year, during my sixth year. He taught Defense Against the Dark Arts and was just...amazing. As a professor. (And as a babe. I'm just saying.) He was brilliant, and fun, and just ridiculously sexy. Oh, you have no idea. Anyway. He resigned at the end of the year because everyone found out he had lycanthropy. Well, all the students found out. The professors already knew, apparently, but kept it quiet at Headmaster Dumbledore's request. I remember being shocked and kind of grossed out when I heard about it. I mean, it's like finding out your favorite celebrity's a convicted murderer. Well, I mean, at the time it felt like that. Up until last year, werewolves to me were pretty much as good as murderers. Or worse. They were violators. They attacked you and dominated you, and poisoned your body with their werewolf venom and tainted you. They were very much like rapists in my mind.

But of course, anyone who knew or knows Lupin knows that he's...well, not. In the aftermath of the events of last year (he had transformed and put a few students in danger, apparently, all while a real murderer, Sirius Black, was running around on the loose on the school grounds) I decided to read up on werewolves and lycanthropy. Well, no, I didn't quite decide to do it the way I decide to go shopping or decide to send prank love letters via owl to Professor Snape. I was just sort of drawn to it. I had to know more about the disease and what it does to a person because I felt this need to understand what Lupin goes through. He was my favorite professor, and by far the best Defense professor I've ever had. (Well, alright. Mad-Eye Moody is pretty good this year, but he's creepy, and not at all attractive.) I even got to know him a little; we hung out once in Hogsmeade when we ran into each other at The Three Broomsticks. So it just seemed important to know what it was to be a werewolf. So I read. _A lot_.

And here I am, several months later in my seventh year, with a more open mind and a bigger brain. And yet the fascination with lycanthropy (ok, and with Lupin. Seriously though. Sexy with a capital S!) continues. So here I sit, 8:50 pm, with a blank sheet of parchment in front of me.

I pull out my notes. Textbook notes. Article notes. Interview notes. Oh, interview notes! I glance over my hurried scribblings from my meeting with the former Professor Sexy - I mean, Lupin. I sent an owl to him before I left on vacation, asking him a) if he remembered me, b) how he was doing, what's he been up to, and where he is nowadays, and c) assuming he's in the vicinity, if we could possibly meet for an interview, as I'm writing a paper on lycanthropy. It was the most awkward letter I had ever written. So worth it though, and I shall explain why.

I see Lupin's letter peeking through my notes, so I pull it up in front of me. Sigh. I can't help but smile. He wrote back in a week's time:

_Dear Jolie,_

_Of course I remember you! I hope you are doing well - seventh year is a very busy and stressful time for Hogwarts students, but being the diligent student I remember you to be, I am sure you are managing everything just fine._

_I am doing well, Jolie, though I must admit I am not doing much. As you'll probably know, lycanthropy makes me a bit of work hazard and therefore prevents me from getting any steady job. I am still around (and by "around" I can only suppose you mean "in the country") and would be happy to see you over the holidays to be interviewed. How about The Coffee Cauldron in Diagon Alley?_

_Please confirm._

_Best,_

_Remus_

And so I got coffee with Mr. Remus Lupin. And it was wonderful. Er - the wonderful being Lupin's company, not the coffee, of course. I actually don't even like coffee, and ended up getting a cup of chocolate milk instead. Lupin gave me a very endearing sort of smile when I ordered it. Like it was cute of me or something. Sigh. Anyway. It was a very interesting meeting, I have to admit. I remember it quite clearly. I had gotten there early out of excitement. I wore the most fitted sweater and jeans I owned and even sprayed on some perfume. I'm not going to lie, I had this secret hope and fantasy of us hooking up. What? He's not my teacher anymore, _and_ I'm a legal adult!

*~*~*~*~*

I sat at the table for two I had picked out, glancing up at the window every few seconds, wondering when he'd show up. I reached into my purse and pulled out my copy of "Book of Medieval Verse" and flipped it open. If he was going to show up after me, he might as well find me reading an interesting book instead of staring hopefully at the window. Plus it makes for an interesting conversation. "Oh hello, Jolie. What are you reading?" I show him the title. He gives me an impressed look and then says something interesting about medieval literature, because of course, it's Lupin. He knows everything about everything and therefore has something to say about everything.

And of course. That actually did happen. I was on my second poem by this French author whose name I couldn't even pronounce when I heard his voice.

"Jolie!"

It sounded cheerful, yet tired and hoarse at the same time. And sexy as hell.

I glanced up from my book and smiled. There he was. Remus Lupin in all his glory. Well, ok. Not so much glory, to be honest. He didn't look too good. I mean, he always looks _good_ in the perverted way that all girls like to think of their man candy, but he didn't look good in any other sense of the word. He looked tired. He looked poor. Shabby robes. A bit unkempt. I felt a pang of guilt for making him come out to see me and spend money on coffee because of me. I immediately began to mentally strategize a way to pay for his drink without making him feel bad or resentful.

"Professor Lupin!" I smiled and closed my book. "How are you?"

He smiled at me and sat down. "I'm well. How are you?"

"Great."

"What are you reading?" He asked, glancing down at my book. I didn't answer him though because he simply turned the book to his own direction so he could read the title himself. "Medieval Verse. That sounds interesting. Is Juan Ruiz in it?"

"Oh! Er...I'm not sure." I flipped the book open to the table of contents. Bloody hell, he was well-versed in every subject, wasn't he? God. That's so hot. "Ah, he is! Under Spanish Medieval Verse. I haven't gotten to that section yet. I'm still on French poetry right now."

He nodded and smiled. "So, are you enjoying the holidays?"

"Very much. My professors were kind this term, and didn't give that much work over vacation." I answered, standing up. "Hey, I'm going to get a drink, can I get you something?"

"Oh, I'll go with you--"

"No, no." I said, cutting him off and shaking my head. "I made you come out here and I'm the interviewer. You tell me what you want and I'll get it for you."

He smiled and sat back, defeated. "That's kind of you, Jolie. Just a plain black coffee, please."

"Coming right up."

I returned a minute later with his coffee and my own drink and took a seat across from him.

"What is that?" he asked, squinting at my clear cup of light brown milk.

"Chocolate milk, of course." I said, rolling my eyes. Had he never seen the stuff before?

"Ah." He smiled slightly and it made me want to sigh. There was something so endearing about his smile. "I thought coffee shops only sold coffee drinks."

"Nope. They sell all kinds of crap these days. Thank God too. I don't like coffee."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I'm one of those weirdos."

Lupin laughed softly, and then took a sip of his coffee.

We talked on for about ten minutes about school, and how he missed teaching at Hogwarts, but has been keeping busy giving piano lessons on a semi-regular basis. Mostly to muggles. But of course, at some point, I had to get to the reason for our meeting. No time like the present – we had fallen into an awkward silence when he stated that he would probably be better off selling his piano, but couldn't bring himself to because it was a family heirloom. Being the braver of the two Gryffindors, however, Lupin changed the subject.

"So, you wanted to do an interview, didn't you?" he asked, taking another sip of coffee.

"Ah. Right." I said quickly, reaching into my bag for my notes. "So…are you sure you don't mind doing this? I realize this could be a little awkward, answering personal questions and stuff for an old student."

Lupin laughed. "I don't mind at all. If I had been opposed to this interview, I would not have agreed to meet up."

"Alright." I replied, fixing my ink and quill on the table, along with my parchment. "I guess…we'll just dive right into it."

"Let's."

"So…I guess to start off, would you mind telling me about the circumstances surrounding your getting lycanthropy? How old were you when it happened?"

Lupin placed his coffee mug down and sat back slightly in his chair, pausing for a moment. He then straightened up and frowned. "I was about ten years old when I was bitten. I was playing outside one evening with my father. We were playing football – a muggle sport. Well, at one point I had kicked the ball a bit too far – into the woods. I went after the ball, ignoring my father's shouts to come back."

"Were those woods in your area known to have werewolves in them or something, that perhaps your father knew about?"

"Not exactly." He replied, shaking his head. You see, at the time, I saw the event differently. I thought I had kicked the ball too hard…with my own strength. I thought my father was yelling at me to come back because he was just worried the way parents always seem to worry unnecessarily over their children. I thought that when the werewolf attacked me moments later, he did so because he had no control over himself, and after the fact I felt sorry for him because I thought everything he had done was involuntary."

I stopped writing, cocking an eyebrow at him. "But I thought all werewolves – that is, when people become werewolves – they lose their human senses and reason and therefore don't have control over their actions."

Lupin smiled ruefully. "Normally, that is the case. But as I told you, I saw the event differently as a child; I wasn't explained the whole story of what happened to me that night until much later – until I was a teenager."

"Your father explained?"

"Yes. You see, the werewolf that attacked me"—he shifted slightly in his seat. I could tell he was becoming a little uncomfortable. A part of me wanted to tell him not to worry about explaining all the details to me if he didn't want to, but a part of me really, really wanted to know; he continued on—"the man who attacked me, did it on purpose."

"_What?!"_

Lupin shrugged. "This man…he….well, my father had offended him. On the night of the attack, it was a full moon – obviously – and he had positioned himself in the vicinity on purpose. He used magic – the little that he knew – to summon the ball in his direction when I had kicked it. I believe my father recognized the magic being done and shouted at me to come back when I went chasing after the ball. It was at that point that the full moon came out and the man came at me, transformed as a werewolf."

"So this man attacked you to punish your father?" I asked in an almost whisper. I was disgusted.

Lupin nodded. "This is actually something that this man specializes in. Positioning himself to attack during the full moon—to attack children in particular."

"But why?"

"Infect them young. So they'll be forced to live as werewolves their entire lives. He hopes to get them to break away from civilized society and form a sort of werewolf community that could one day rise against regular witches and wizards."

I frowned. "Wait a sec."

"Yes?"

"You're speaking in present tense."

"Yes."

"So…this man….he's…alive?"

"Yes."

"And…walking free?"

"Yes."

"But—"

"I know."

I sat there in silence for a few moments, unable to take what I had just heard. A serial psychopath werewolf guy has been attacking children all these years and no one has done anything about it? What the bloody—

"You can perhaps see, then, how werewolves get a bad rep." Lupin said, cocking an eyebrow at me. "Or, how they can't seem to improve their rep, I should say."

"What's this guy's name?" I asked suddenly.

I saw him gulp. I didn't hear him, but I saw the involuntarily pulse through his throat. I was being insensitive. "I'm sorry—you don't have to tell me. It's none of my business—"

"Fenrir Greyback." He said quietly.

I jotted the name down. It wasn't one that I wanted to forget.

"You have other questions, I'm sure." Lupin said as I wrote.

I glanced up quickly and met his eyes. It was hard to read them. They weren't cold but they weren't warm either. I suddenly felt incredibly distant, and yet so close to him.

"Well…yes. I did. Um…" I glanced down at my notes and then back at him. "Well, you were quite young when this all happened. How did your lycanthropy affect your growing up?"

"Well, I had wonderful parents. They did everything in their power to make my life as normal as possible. But of course, they took whatever precautions they could whenever I transformed, since we didn't have wolfsbane potion at the time."

"Right." I said, looking up as I finished writing down what he said. "So…wolfsbane potion…it's a very recent invention. Have you been taking it since it became available then?"

"Well, no. It's an incredibly difficult potion to brew," Lupin replied, resting his now empty mug on the table and folding his hands in front of him. "And I'm not much of a potion brewer."

I couldn't help but smile a little. "I find that hard to believe."

"Believe me. I'm terrible when it comes to potions."

"But you're Professor Lupin!"

He laughed. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

I couldn't help but laugh as well. "It means that as Professor Lupin—"

"You forget that I'm no longer a professor." He interrupted, still smiling very charmingly at me.

"Well, as a former professor, and as a…I don't know, as Remus Lupin, part of your identity is to just…know everything, and be good at everything." I replied.

He laughed again. "Why on earth should I be omnipotent?"

I grinned. "Because you give the impression that you are."

"Ah. I should be more careful then in the future to not give people the wrong impression."

I was sipping on my chocolate milk when he spoke, but as I put my drink down and glanced at him, I realized he was already looking at me, which startled me. Nothing odd about the manner of his look – he seemed merely amused by my comments and my perception of him – only that he gave me a prolonged look did I find a little weird. He's never glanced at me for more than a couple seconds at a time.

I picked up my cup of milk once again and took a sip, because I didn't know what else to do.

"So," I began after a moment of silence, staring determinedly at my notes, "You don't take wolfsbane potion then?"

I glanced up and saw that his amused look was gone; he was serious again. "Well," he started, "I take it off and on. Depending on where I am and what I'm doing, and if I can find a capable person to make it for me, I do take it. During my tenure at Hogwarts, for instance, I was able to take it because I was working alongside Professor Snape."

I nodded. "It must be difficult, relying on others for this potion."

He glanced at me and simply shrugged. "I can't say I like it, but I don't really have any other choice. It's an immensely complicated potion to make, and very few people are willing to brew it, considering the nature of the work."

I couldn't help but frown at him. It made me sad. He couldn't find people to make a potion for him that he desperately needed. He couldn't find steady work which he desperately needed. I suddenly wanted to throw myself across the table and give him a great big hug, but something told me that acting as such would scare Lupin away.

*~*~*~*

We talked on for another twenty minutes, with me asking questions about his lycanthropy and how the social stigma attached to it has affected his life. It was interesting to hear his thoughts on the matter – not just to get a first-hand account, but also because it was very…personalized. I was hearing it all from someone I knew, not from a total stranger. I got to see a different side of Lupin. At school I knew the intelligent Professor Lupin. The warm, kind man who would hold doors open for women, and say things like "pardon me" and "thank you" to everyone. And I have to add here, I knew him as the sexy professor, who got me all hot and bothered whenever he talked academics. Heh.

But during today's interview, he was different, yet part of the same person. I had never seen him bitter before. Nor sad or resentful. Yet he was all of these. He's probably always been a little of these for a very long time, but just never exposed that part of him at work, in front of his students. It's weird, but I realized then that Professor Lupin was a real, three dimensional, human being, not just a professor. He had a life, he had real, three dimensional problems. I felt a bit silly about my revelation, and against my better judgment (or lack thereof, if I'm going to be completely honest) I expressed my thoughts to Lupin towards the end of our meeting. I explained to him that sometimes I forgot that my professors were human, and he simply laughed.

"Yes, we come off as horrible monsters most of the time, don't we?" he asked, smiling.

I couldn't help but grin. "Of course not. I mean, you don't. You never did. I just mean…well, you get so comfortable with your teachers as your teachers, and the moment you realize that they serve other functions – that they're not just teachers, but fathers or husbands, or whatever – it's unsettling."

"I understand you completely." Lupin replied, still smiling. "I remember the first time I saw Professor McGonagall outside Hogwarts, I felt incredibly awkward."

I laughed. "She was your professor too?"

He nodded. "I believe she was fairly new when I started at Hogwarts."

"I can't imagine McGonagall being new, and young…"

Lupin laughed. "One day, children of the next generation will be saying that about you."

I glared at him, but then grinned in spite of myself. "I'm not going to age. I'll get procedures done on me so I look like this forever."

He cocked an eyebrow at me. "You want to look eighteen when you are 60?"

I laughed. "Well, maybe not eighteen. Thirty, perhaps. I think thirty is a good age."

He smiled slightly. "It's an ok age."

"Are you thirty?" I asked, grinning.

"Thirty exactly?"

"Yes."

He laughed. "No."

"But you're in your thirties?"

"Yes, I am."

"You don't like it?" I asked.

Lupin shrugged. "It's not too bad."

I smiled. "Well, would you rather be forty?"

"Well—"

"Or fifty?"

He laughed. "You know what? I'm perfectly content with my age, thank you, Jolie."

"You're welcome." I replied, nodding solemnly.

He laughed again as he stood up, signaling an end to our meeting. I followed suite, quickly stuffing my notes into my bag so I could walk out with him.

"Well, I suppose I should get going." He said, glancing at his watch. "I hope I answered all of your questions."

"Oh, you did." I replied, following him outside. It had begun to snow, and the sidewalk was already caked with a light layer of frost. "Thank you so much for meeting with me. I really appreciate it."

He smiled as he turned to face me. "It's not a problem. Anyway, it was really good to see you, Jolie."

I glanced up at him. Standing up, he was several inches taller than me, and I had to tilt my head back slightly to see his face. Partly because he was tall and I was short, and partly because he was standing onl a few inches from me. God, I wanted to swoon. Or make out with him.

"It was nice to see you too, Professor."

He laughed. "You don't have to call me that, you know. I'm not your professor – nor anyone's – anymore."

I smiled. "So…what do I call you then? Remus?"

He did that sexy, endearing smile again. The same one he did when I brought my chocolate milk. "Well, that's what everyone else calls me."

I laughed. "Remus it is then. That's going to be weird. Remus. Remus. _Remus_." I said a few times, testing out the new name. I shook my head and laughed again. "It's weird. Remus."

He laughed again, patting me on the shoulder. Though I didn't react externally, I felt my insides jump. He had never touched me before. He had never stood so close to me before either. And that damn endearing smile that was just so incredibly sexy and made me want to melt. Could it possibly be…

"You'll get used to it, I'm sure." He replied.

I nodded. "Right. Ok…Remus—there, I'm saying it!"

"Very good. Although I think that's a record number of times I've heard my name repeated in the space of three minutes." He said, smiling.

"Really?" I asked, giggling without thinking. Oh shit! Jolie, you imbecile!! I slapped my hands over my mouth to shut myself up. Hmm. Maybe he didn't get it.

He frowned for a moment. And then the inevitable look of comprehension came. He made a face. "Jolie!"

"Sorry, Remus!!"

He rolled his eyes, and I couldn't help but feel surprised. I would have thought he'd yell at me or get more embarrassed. But he didn't. He wasn't even blushing. On the contrary, his mouth was doing a funny twitching thing, as if he were trying to suppress a smile. Good Lord. Does Remus John Lupin (don't ask how I know his middle name, I have my fan girl ways) like it? Does he like being the subject of double entendres?

"I'm going to pretend the last few seconds didn't happen." He finally said, raising his eyebrows at me. He still had that "I'm amused even though I should be" look on his face.

"Works for me." I replied, smiling. He was still standing close to me. It was driving me crazy.

"Alright then."

Huh. He didn't step back after the perverted giggle. He was delaying his departure. This had to mean what I thought it meant…

"So…" I said, still smiling. "Um…thanks again for seeing me today."

"No problem." He replied. He was also smiling. Beautifully. Perfectly. I think this was a sign for me to go for the kill. Or at least to signal him to go for the kill.

"Ok, so—" I leaned forward slightly, keeping my eyes locked on his.

"Bye, Jolie."

He smiled, turned on his heel, and walked away.

_Oh._

*~*~*~*~*

It is now 9 p.m., and all I have written is a pathetic little introduction to my paper. This assignment is killing my soul. I'm going to bed, and I'm going to dream about Lupin. Hopefully it will be dirty.


End file.
